


Scratch

by TonoRadish



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Accident, Adventure, Amnesia, Angst, CanPru - Freeform, Comfort, Depression, Family, Forbidden Love, Hurt, I really don't know yet, I want them to kiss though, M/M, Mystery, Robot, Romance, Science Fiction, cyborg, my kids will suffer this time, probably a slow burn, prucan, sci fi, scifi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-12-07 06:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18231158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonoRadish/pseuds/TonoRadish
Summary: After a horrible accident kills Matthew's secret lover, Gilbert, he is presented with a chance to bring his loved one back. However, the price would be a life of servitude and Gilbert's memories of Matthew would not be intact. Even so, a life without Gilbert would be infinitely worse. So, bring it on.





	1. The First Reset

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Hetalia is a dead fandom but here I am writing for it. I don't care.  
> If this looks familiar to you it's because I moved here from FanFiction.net under the same name.  
> This feels like I'm talking to Rover on the bus to a new town in Animal Crossing.
> 
> To new readers and old ones, welcome to Scratch! I hope you like it!

“I just don’t understand why you’re mad at me!” The white haired man called out to his significant other who was power walking away.

“You do this every time, Gilbert! Every single damn time!”

“Mattie, please!”

The shorter man stopped abruptly, the taller Gilbert almost colliding with him in his haste. Gilbert looked down into the violet eyes of his furious lover. The pale man’s face was as red as his puffer coat. Gilbert had definitely made an oopsie. It was almost like there was steam coming out of Mattie’s ears.

“That was Alfred’s Christmas party! I haven’t seen my family in nearly four years, you knew what tonight meant to me!”

“Come on, Mattie. You were just so cute under the mistletoe.”

“Stop with the Mattie! I’m so angry right now! You know I don’t want Alfred or anyone else in my family knowing about us! You swore you’d help me keep it secret tonight! But just like every other time you showed no restraint!”

Gilbert began to simmer in the snow, glaring down at his boyfriend, “We’ve been together for two years, Matthew. When are you going to tell them about me?”

“Never, Gilbert!”

“Why not? Is it because you’re ashamed of me?”

“You know that’s not why!”

“Yes it is. You think your cute little conservative old money parents don’t know a queer when they see one?”

“That’s not-”

“It’s not just me you’re ashamed of either,” Gilbert held Matthew firmly by the shoulders, his face went from upset to hurt almost immediately, “Just come out to them, Mattie. They already know.”  
Matthew pushed Gilbert off of him, “and whose fault do you think that is!?”

Gilbert stumbled back as Matthew began to power walk away again. His took his own hat off and pressed it to his face in his hands and screamed into it before sloppily putting it back on and running after Matthew.

“Mattie!”

“I’m done with this conversation, Gilbert!”

“Come on, Mattie! Slow down!”

“You should go stay at Francis’s place tonight if you know what’s good for you!”

“Mattie, please! It’s cold! I’m feeling faint!”

“That’s not going to work on me this time, you bozo.”

Mattie only stopped walking when he heard Gilbert collapse in the snow behind him. He froze in his tracks. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look. But Mattie couldn’t stop himself, he looked. Gilbert was lying face down in the grass by the sidewalk, unmoving. Mattie wanted to just keep walking but instead his body moved on its own and his mouth stretched into a straight line of disenchantment. He walked up to the body and kicked it over. Gilbert grunted in slight pain and laughed.

“This isn’t over, Gilbert,” Mattie said in deadpan.

“I know, I’m sorry. Now come down here.”

Mattie crouched down and found a comfortable place in Gilbert’s arms in the snow. Mattie squeezed the moron tightly and squeezed his eyes shut. Gilbert pat his shoulder length blonde hair.

“I know it’s tough on you Gilbert. And I do want to come out to them… just… not yet.”

“I know, Mattie. I’m sorry for being such a dick about it.”

“Well, you are what you eat.”

Gilbert kissed Mattie’s forehead, not even trying to deny it. Things would probably be fine if Matthew came out to his family. He could start with his brother, Alfred. Alfred would help him, if Alfred understood. It was a difficult situation to be in your mid-twenties and still be lying to everyone. And Matthew did want to come out, not only for Gilbert but for himself. It was thanks to Gilbert Matthew felt he should even try to get back into contact with his family after his disappearing act. It just gets so hard to live like you’re two people. It was better to start from scratch in a new town where no one knew you and no one cared about you.

“Come on, Gilbert. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

“Carry me, Mattie,” Gilbert whined.

“If you wanted me to carry you you should have kept playing dead.”

“Bleh,” Gilbert shut his eyes and let his tongue hang out of his mouth. His arms were still raised in an attempt to make carrying him easier.

“Come on, Zombie Boy,” and Mattie pulled Gilbert to his feet.

“Oh no! Mattie! The virus! It’s changing me!” Gilbert shrieked holding onto Mattie tightly, “I’m really becoming a zombie!”

Mattie tried to wiggle free but Gilbert pulled him in gargling the word “brains” over and over again, kissing the smaller man on his head repeatedly. Mattie laughed but managed to free himself.

“Oh no! I’m becoming a kissing zombie too!”

“No! You can’t!” Gilbert cried out desperately.

“What? Why not?”

“Because. Zombies don’t eat other zombies… which means,” he put on his best red eyed puppy dog face, “Zombies don’t kiss each other either!”

Mattie ran back to Gilbert and knocked him down, “don’t worry! I have the cure for the virus!”

Gilbert wiggled his eyebrows mischievously while his boy toy straddled him, “be gentle~”

Mattie leaned down, putting a hand over Gilbert’s eyes to cover them. Gilbert’s lips puckered up in the most cartoony way he could manage when his pale pink lips met with a fist full of snow. Mattie got up and ran as fast as he could toward the hotel while Gilbert chased after him chucking poorly packed snowballs that crumbled midair. Mattie saw the light turning to cross the street and knew this would be his big chance to evade the snowy assault. He nearly slipped making his way across but he managed to make it to the other side unscathed.

“You won’t escape me, Mattie,” Gilbert howled as he chased after him.

But in crossing the street Gilbert slipped and fell down, a horrible cracking noise echoed from where his head hit the pavement. The wind whistled by as Gilbert remained on the ground.

“Gilbert?”

Matthew laughed nervously, “Gilbert you can quit playing now.”

No response. Matthew took a step forward, the snow crunched underneath him. He took another step. And then another. Until he was standing over Gilbert.

“Gilbert?”

No response.


	2. The Big Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweats because I love writing Alfred in this story*

There was a knock on Gilbert’s bedroom door but Matthew didn’t respond. He had buried himself in Gilbert’s old blankets and pillows in an attempt to keep Gilbert with him. The one who knocked entered the room and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

“Mattie, you have to eat something.”

Matthew sat up in bed and looked at his brother, Alfred, who had flown out to be with him in Gilbert’s absence. Alfred and Matthew looked fairly alike, however Alfred's eyes were blue and he kept his hair in a shorter more formal cut as opposed to Matthew’s shoulder length waves. Their parents used to tease Matthew about trying to tame the mop he called hair but if Matthew didn’t do this then he would continue to be mistaken for Alfred when they were in school together.

“Hey Alfred, can you make more pancakes?”

Alfred looked like he was about to contest but held back and smiled, “sure, buddy. I’ll go make some now.”

When Alfred left the room he left the door open behind him. Matthew just stared through it at Alfred entering the small apartment kitchen. Hearing his brother clank around in there it felt almost as if Gilbert were still alive. He wished Alfred had closed the door so he could pretend he was. Matthew buried himself back in the bedsheets and closed his eyes. With his eyes shut it was Gilbert mixing flour, eggs, and milk into a bowl. It was Gilbert humming a song offkey and realizing it halfway through then switching to another, easier song. The large pillow that kept Matthew company could be Gilbert, folded in such a way it felt almost as if he was resting his head on his lover’s shoulder. Matthew hummed along with Gilbert to his easier song. He squeezed Gilbert so tightly that he wouldn’t be able to leave Matthew even if he opened his eyes. It’s too late Gilbert, you’re stuck here, you can’t go anywhere, it’s all over for you now. There’s no escaping your Mattie.

“Knock knock,” Alfred said cutting in, “They’re a little ugly but the pancakes are done.”

Matthew opened his eyes, his face smothered in a pillow. He sat up in bed again as his brother took a seat beside him. The pancakes were on a large serving plate, drowning in maple syrup and butter. For the first time in Matthew’s life he understood that “too much butter” was a real thing and he was hoping it would make good on its threats and stop his heart. But the obscene amounts of butter and syrup only made his heart feel heavier. However, Alfred was right. A heavy heart aside, eating did temporarily fill the void.

When Matthew finally slowed down he noticed Alfred looking around the room at all the photographs Gilbert had taped to the walls. He commented on them.

“Gilbert really liked taking pictures.”

“Yeah,” Matthew said looking around at all the nature shots. There were only a handful of pictures of Gilbert and Matthew together on display. Matthew didn’t want them to be put up, afraid of someone seeing them. Come to think of it, Matthew didn’t want anyone to know about him and Gilbert. He was afraid if someone found out, no matter how removed they were, his family would hear about it. Gilbert had been Matthew’s closest kept secret and now he only felt bad for treating him that way.

“Yeah, Gilbert,” Matthew tried again, “was really into taking pictures.”

An awkward silence fell over the two of them and Matthew regretted making a second attempt at talking. He tried again, for the sake of his brother. He just didn’t want to seem too depressed. His brother didn’t have to worry. Not that it wasn’t appreciated. It just made him feel guilty, Matthew supposed.

“He also,” Matthew stuttered, “If you look out in the living room he also like to make bad little wood carvings. He didn’t do it all the time, just sometimes. He was uhhh really bad at it.”

Alfred smiled nervously, “I was wondering what those were.”

Another silence fell over them. Matthew fumbled with his plate of syrup and butter and accidentally spilled it onto the bed sheets. Alfred quickly grabbed the plate and fork and took it to the kitchen before returning and stripping the bed.  
“Oh, I’ll uh wash these,” Alfred said frantically, almost relieved there was something else to do rather than talk.

Matthew helped Alfred strip the bed, equally grateful to his mistake. Alfred ran out of the room again and without blankets to hide in Matthew decided the couch was the next best option. He walked over to Gilbert’s desk chair and put on a hoodie that was laying on it. Then he threw on Gilbert’s very childish yellow bird print robe. Gilbert never washed the thing and for the first time Matthew was happy about it. He grabbed the pillow he called Gilbert and crashed onto the couch and waited for the sweet release of death… or at least for Alfred to try and talk to him again.

“So,” right on cue, “were you able to get into contact with Gilbert’s family?”

“No,” Matthew said, “they’re not close or anything. I’m not really sure he has any left.”

“Any left?”

Matthew didn’t respond to that. He knew he was being vague but he didn’t really want to talk about it. Back when it was just them, Gilbert never really wanted to talk about it either. Alfred tried one last time.

“You had some mail, I left it here in the kitchen. I’ll bring it over. We can look at some Sky Mall magazines and circle things we don’t need but would totally waste money on like… uh… well like when we lived together. That’s a dumb idea…”

Matthew didn’t say anything. He knew Alfred was only trying but the more Alfred tried the more difficult Matthew wanted to be. His boyfriend was dead and he couldn’t even talk about it because it was always a secret. And he could come out right now and say it. He could go on and on about his insecurities, about how he’s been gay all this time, about how horribly in love with Gilbert he was. But… he just didn’t want to. It didn’t feel right. It was never going to feel right. He squeezed his pillow, it smelled more like him than Gilbert now. He heard Alfred sigh.

“I’m going on a jog, I can see you want to be alone. I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

With the sound of the door closing and locking, Matthew was alone again. And everything was worse. He had to get up from the couch because the pancakes were starting to hurt his stomach in that position. He left the pillow behind and wandered to the kitchen and picked up the mail. He sifted through it.

“Bill… bill… Sky Mall magazine…”

He stared at it for a while and set it aside. He should try to get along better with Alfred, the guy put his life on hold to be with Matthew in his hour of need. He should get some credit for that.

“Bill… coupon… What’s this?”

Underneath all the crap paper was a large yellow envelope with something that felt the weight of a heavier magazine yet was strangely thin. He inspected it but there was no writing anywhere on it which meant someone had dropped it off by hand for him. A mysterious package. If Gilbert were there he would start rambling about government secrets or evil syndicates. Matthew always thought it was funny but for whatever reason in that moment he felt a little scared. He took the envelope and its mysterious contents into Gilbert’s room and closed the door behind him. He shut the curtains and made sure no one could see him as he opened it.

Inside was a little silver tablet.

Matthew held it up and inspected it. There seemed to be no way to turn it on. He looked at it more closely and saw a little camera at what he assumed was the top. A little red light lit up beside the camera and suddenly the tablet lit up.

It said, “facial recognition activated. Welcome Matthew Williams.”

Matthew shrieked and almost dropped the tabet but managed to set it safely on the desk.

“H-How do you know my name?”

The robot voice responded, “Matthew Williams, you have been given a unique opportunity.”

The screen revealed a picture of Gilbert, the one from his driver’s license, and the tablet continued to speak, “Gilbert Beilschmidt has recently passed from this world however, should you agree to assist us, you will have the power to bring him back into your life.”

“What the hell is going on,” Matthew stammered, picking the tablet up, “what do you mean I can bring Gilbert back?”

“Inside the envelope you will find a silver ring,” the robot said, Matthew looked for and found it while the robot continued, “Tonight at 02:00 hours, a car will be waiting for you at the end of this block. You have until 02:15 hours to enter the car wearing said ring. Once you do we will consider that your consent to what comes after.”

“What comes after? Where will the car go?”

“To the one who has brought Gilbert Beilschmidt back.”

“Has brought? You mean he’s already done it? What about Alfred?”

“We are already aware Alfred Jones’s presence in your home. He is not to know about tonight’s rendezvous. Should he become aware, Gilbert Beilschmidt will be terminated immediately.”

“Oh my god, what do I do? How will I sneak away without him knowing? Why am I even thinking of agreeing to this? But if Gilbert really is alive then…”

Matthew looked around the room at the photographs Gilbert took and at the photo of the two of them on Gilbert’s desk. He took in a deep breath. If was all a trick who cared what happened to Matthew anyway… but if there was even a chance it wasn’t…

“Alright, I’ll do it,” he said, his voice cracking cluing him in as to how scared he actually was of this whole thing.

But the tablet did not respond. It had just turned itself off. Well, he could ask more questions tonight. For now he’d have to hide the tablet. Matthew slipped the ring onto his right hand but then moved it to his left ring finger. It was overly dramatic, but it fit perfectly. A ring placed there meant a promise had been made. And Matthew silently promised he would find Gilbert again, tonight on this mysterious trip or in the afterlife if this trip was a trap.

Matthew lifted up the mattress to hide the tablet when he found a little black book with a lock on it and the word “tagebuch” on the cover.

“Holy shit,” Matthew said as he replaced the book with the tablet and set the mattress back down, “is this what I think it is?”

Matthew made his way back to Gilbert’s desk and fiddled with the book. The lock was silver and heart shaped. There was no doubt about it. This was Gilbert’s diary. While Matthew fiddled with the lock, attempting to open it, he looked back on the relationship he’d had with Gilbert over the years. From the moment Matthew accepted Gilbert’s online ad for a roommate and moved in, this little black book was something Gilbert always hinted at but never confirmed. Too many mysteries for one night.

He tucked the book in Gilbert’s side drawer and, if he didn’t die tonight, he would find the key… On the off chance Gilbert came home with him tonight he would present it as a funny welcome home gift. Matthew’s heart stopped. If this was all a fever dream he prayed he wouldn’t wake up. He had a chance to bring Gilbert home tonight. But what to do about Alfred?

The answer came to him in the photo Gilbert had of him and Matthew on his desk. It was their first big hang out after they stopped being awkward first-time roomies. They went to a beerhouse and got so trashed they woke up on the kitchen floor covered in flour and puke. Looking back on the night Matthew wondered how either of them found the other attractive after that. But that night revealed the way to make sure Alfred would not find out about Matthew’s big plan. Inside the kitchen was an alcohol reserve to make Gilbert’s German grandparents cry sloppily. Tonight Matthew was going to have a good and long drink with his brother until his brother blacked out.


	3. The reConnecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howdy all! Right now I'm working very hard on my Mob Psycho 100 fic but I have no forgotten this one and will continue to update around once a week. It just depends on when I have time to write it. Thank you!

Alfred returned to the apartment looking a little worse for wear, but calmer. Matthew remained sprawled out on the couch where Alfred had last seen him, however it did seem his brother’s sheets had been moved to the dryer. For some reason that made Alfred feel better. He didn’t know why.

“Hey Mattie,” Alfred said, collapsing onto the rug in front of the couch, “I’m sorry about earlier. Can we be friends again?”

Matthew put a pillow over his face and talked into it. Alfred couldn’t be sure what Matthew said, all he could tell was the tone was snarky. It was most likely another depressed quip. Alfred sighed feeling tired all over again, like he never even left. Were they always like this? Was there ever a point where they were honest and genuinely got along? Alfred’s brother was always the secretive type, maybe it was to balance out the fact that Alfred was the loud one who couldn’t keep secrets… Either way…

“Come on, Mattie. Just tell me what you want. I don’t know how to be there for you, okay? I admit it. I’m being honest, now you be honest.”

Matthew audibly snorted underneath his pillow before removing it from his face and rolling over so he was able to really face Alfred and say, “You know what I want, honestly?”

Alfred stared tensely into the perplexing pools Matthew called eyes, “I do.”

Matthew let another half assed grin stretch from his mouth, the closest thing to a smile he was able to make in front of Alfred, “I really want a drink.”

Alfred clamped a hand onto Matthew’s shoulder and pushed him lightly, his own mouth tightening into a straight line. He nodded vigorously, not looking at anything in particular before standing up.

“Me too, get your pants on.”

“Noooooo Alfred, don’t make me go out,” Matthew moaned, rolling onto his stomach planting his face back into his pillow.

“We won’t go to a bar but at least walk with me to a convenience store. You haven’t left your apartment in days. Come on, you’ll get some fresh air, take a knee in the parking lot, we’ll chug as we walk back here, and if one of us isn’t throwing up by the end of the night we’ll have failed.”

Matthew muffled something into his pillow. Alfred hoisted his brother onto his feet and pulled a Cheeto from Matthew’s tangled locks (was that there the entire time or was it a new addition in the time Matthew spent alone earlier that day?). He pat Matthew’s face attempting to wake the guy up.

“Pants.”

Matthew groaned and slumped off to Gilbert’s room to steal his former roomie’s pants, Alfred assumed. While Matthew sloppily changed clothes Alfred continued to look around his brother’s place. He had been sharing this apartment with Gilbert for four years, cutting all ties with Alfred and his family during that time, so of course they must have gotten close. It really stood out to Alfred how much of a loner Matthew was growing up. This was a place where neither he, nor his parents, nor anyone else from their hometown could touch or intrude on. After years of knowing each other, this was the first time Alfred ever felt he Matthew’s presence rather than his ghost. But what was Matthew so keen on hiding that he felt he needed to escape to a place like this? As horrible as it sounded, for a brief moment, Alfred thought that Gilbert’s death might have been a good thing. This was a real chance at him reconnecting with his brother. Their visit during Christmas was a polite family endeavor but the time they’d spend here, in Matthew’s personal space, could be meaningful if they let it.

He stared at a picture of Gilbert, Matthew, and one other man hanging on the wall. Gilbert, who were you to Matthew? What did Gilbert certainly know about Matthew that Alfred didn’t? Hopefully tonight Alfred could not only help Matthew through his time of grieving but maybe build a sibling relationship that, it only now occured to Alfred, they never had.

Matthew came out of Gilbert’s bedroom in clothes that were definitely Gilbert’s as they were entirely too big, “you likey?”

Matthew’s tone was flat but Alfred tried to smile at what he assumed was a joke, “me likey. Let’s go drinky.”

Matthew followed Alfred out of their apartment and into the world. It was already late. If they had decided to hit a bar they wouldn’t have been out of place in the slightest. Within the next few minutes they would surely pass fellow soon-to-be drunkards, maybe run into a few at the convenience store. The walk there was silent but much for comfortable than conversation would have been. Alfred only hoped tonight’s affair would loosen them up some. All this dead air between them was really challenging for him.

Once at the convenience store they broke apart to go buy whatever they felt like they would need for the evening. For Alfred this meant a family-size bag of cheesy ruffled chips and a 12-pack of name-brand cheap beer, lite of course because he was a healthy red-blooded American man. For Matthew this meant one liter of Absolut Vodka. When Alfred saw what his counterpart was planning to do to himself he grabbed a thing of cranberry cocktail mix.

“You’ll thank me later,” were the only words uttered between the two inside of the store.

Once outside Alfred uncapped the vodka and cranberry and urged Matthew take a knee. The motion was effortless on Matthew’s part. He went right down, smooth and expressionless, then held the big bottle up with both of his hands before taking a chug so alpha, Alfred’s former fraternity brothers would have wept in awe. Matthew’s face visibly soured when he was done with his swig, motioning for Alfred to give him the god damned cranberry cocktail mix. Alfred took a knee while Matthew chased and decided that neither of them need be the DD tonight and drank enough to match Matthew and then some. He chased his vodka with a beer from his 12-pack and the two made their way back toward the apartment, bodies slowly warming up as their walk turned more into a march.

Once inside the flat, door locked behind them, they made haste for the couch yet again. Half of the 12-pack was now gone and Alfred was safely drunk while Matthew was methodically slowing down his rate of intake. The two pushed whatever garbage littered the top of the coffee table and replaced it with their liquor libations. 

“Matthew!” Alfred shouted cheerily.

“What!” Matthew shouted, much more relaxed now.

Alfred sloppily slapped his brother repeatedly on the arm, “get the Sky Mall Magazine!”

“Oh shit,” Matthew said standing up so quickly that he sat back down immediately before getting up again and sauntering dramatically over to the kitchen counter where the magazine sat.

He brought it back over, along with two pens, and the two of them gabbed about getting an indoor trampoline, a pocket projector, and a saxaphone beginner’s kit. They looked at automatic wine dispensers, harnesses, and little stairs for dogs to use to climb onto furniture that was too high for their jumps to reach.

“Who would use half of this,” Matthew cackled at the image of a weiner dog using the stairs.

“Hey, if you brought a girl over and she saw you had a harness I’m telling you,” Alfred was howling, “she’d be so down, dude! She’d be so down, dude! She’d be so down, dude! She-”

“Alfred, you’re in a loop,” Matthew said handing his brother a new beer, “take a knee.”

Alfred got down on one knee and downed the beer, chucking the can at the floor when it was empty, “TOUCH DOWN!”

Matthew helped the all star back onto the couch. He was also completely drunk at this point, but he still had the potential to sober up unlike his brother. Now was the time to show the poor guy some mercy and give him some water. So Matthew went to the kitchen sink while Alfred sang his champion song and filled up a glass. Matthew watched the water settle when what Alfred said sank in.

“Hey Alfred,” Matthew asked quietly, if Alfred didn’t hear he would drop it but if Alfred did hear…

“Yeah Mattie?” He was still singing when he used his brother’s nickname.

How does one go about this? He never had to do this before. When he moved away he just was what he was, everyone knew him as gay. There was no need to come clean to anything. He was already clean in a town where no one knew him. Up until now this place was safe. But now he was with an intruder, someone who, if Matthew told, would carry lasting consequences. But if he was going to die tonight then he may as well die with someone knowing who he really was, someone who could carry Matthew’s memory back home, maybe do him some justice or something. Matthew was cognisant but he definitely wasn’t thinking as clearly as he could. Tonight may be his last night with Alfred. Regardless of how things ended up after going to see this mysterious savior, Matthew’s world will never be the same. So maybe, for once, Matthew would ask Alfred to meet him. Matthew would just ask his brother to look at him and really see him. Would he do that? Would he be able to? Matthew was afraid but now he had no choice. In this moment this is what Matthew wanted. He felt the ghost of Gilbert’s hand pushing him to do so, whispering words no one else could hear.

Go ahead. It’ll be alright.

“Alfred,” Matthew said, walking back to the couch and handing his brother the glass of water before taking a seat, “well, the thing is…”

He choked but Alfred remained silent, waiting for his twin to finish. A moment went by. And then a minute went by. Matthew couldn’t figure out how to say it, how to tell his brother everything. It felt so impossible suddenly. It terrified him. But then Alfred set his empty water glass down before slumping over and resting his head on Matthew’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Mattie,” Alfred said, eyes fluttering closed, “you can tell me when you’re ready.”

“You… you knew?”

“Knew what? I was just,” he sighed, sleepily, “just letting you know I’ll be patient for ya.”

“Alfred, you’re so drunk,” Matthew half smiled.

“Hey,” Alfred tried to bark, “I ain’t nuthin’. You listen here, buddy.”

“I’m listening.”

Alfred sat up and grabbed Matthew’s shoulders, making sure their eyes were locked and semi-focused, “Gilbert may be gone but yer not alone, never gonna be. Ya hear?”

Matthew smiled a small sad smile, “Okay.”

“Good,” Alfred said, lightly punching Matthew on the shoulder, “now I gotta go throw up. If I pass out on the can just leave me there.”

“Will do, captain,” Matthew said, saluting as Alfred zombie-walked to the bathroom.

The sound of the door slamming was followed by the muffled sound of Alfred puking his guts out. Matthew almost wanted to feel bad but it couldn’t be helped. He looked to the clock surrounded by ugly little things Gilbert had carved on the windowsill. It was midnight. Alfred had blacked faster than Matthew thought he would. He supposed tensions were higher than he originally thought. 

Matthew tried cleaning up a little around their makeshift bar but quickly gave up, taking a seat beside the windowsill and peeking out through the blinds and the scattered lights of other crappy apartment buildings. He took in everything he could, from the cold emitting off the glass from the outside to the semi-rough texture of the stained carpet under his open palm. A car passed by and then another. An old woman slowly made her way across the street and two teens skated by her laughing about something. Outside of the apartment everyone was doing something, thinking about something, dealing with something. Everything outside is alive while everything inside is... 

It’s nice that Alfred came. If Matthew really tried maybe he and Alfred could have built from this and maybe things would get better. Life would go on between them and the outside world and eventually the feeling of Gilbert’s absence would be easier to deal with. Maybe Matthew would fall in love again and this time he could properly introduce the guy to his family on Christmas. Matthew could fall asleep on the floor right there and forget about the car and bringing Gilbert back from the dead.

But then, why would he do that? It would be so hard to go on living but Matthew knew it was the most likely reality. However, when he looked at the ugly wood carving Gilbert made when he was contemplating things Matthew couldn’t help but think,

“There should be more of these.”

He picked up the statue, it was small enough to fit comfortably in his palm, “it’s a bird right?”

Gilbert grinned impishly, working on his latest monstrosity, “yeah! And this one is gonna be… well I don’t know yet.”

“You’re a mastercraftsman, Gilbert,” Matthew said to himself.

“Don’t act so surprised, the awesome me has a plethora of awesome talents. Some of which the likes you have yet to see.”

“You know plethora is usually used in a negative sense?”

“You’re just jealous, Mattie. Hey! I know! I’ll carve you!”

Matthew chuckled, “please don’t.”

“Too late! When this baby’s done I’ll be kissing the wrong boy goodnight! Because, you know, you’ll be identical.”

Matthew turned away from the window to look at Gilbert but he wasn’t there. Matthew set the “bird” back where it belonged before hanging his head. There was no point in a life where Gilbert wasn’t with him. That life is possible but not enough, it never would be. Was it selfish? Did Matthew actually care if it was? No, not even a little bit.

So he got up, went into the bathroom, and helped an unconscious Alfred to his bedroom. He left an empty pot next to his head incase he decided he needed to throw up again at any point and tucked his brother into bed. He snored extremely loudly so the door was closed on his way out. Matthew checked the time again. He decided to shower, brush his teeth, and actually become presentable for his potential reunion in another hour. He put on the shirt Gilbert bought for him two Christmases ago. Gilbert always loved when Matthew wore that shirt and Matthew loved it when Gilbert loved him. What better piece to wear tonight?

02:00 hours on the clock and Matthew left the apartment carrying the tablet and wearing the ring that came with it. True to the robotic voice’s word, a car was waiting. Matthew was surprised at how nice a car it was. The door opened automatically and Matthew took a seat on the spotless leather interior. The door closed on its own and Matthew leaned forward to talk to the driver, but there was none. What little courage he had fled from his body instantly when the car began to drive itself.

The tablet screen lit up again, “Welcome, Matthew Williams, we are pleased by your appearance tonight.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Way to be an intellectual, Matthew.

“Did you bring, and wear, the ring that was delivered to you along with this tablet?”

“Uh, yes,” Matthew said in a shaky voice, holding his left hand up where the tablet’s built in camera could see. So this thing was more limited than he first thought in observing him. That was comforting.

“Excellent. You have done well to follow instructions up to this point.”

“Can you tell me where we’re going?”

“We are going to Gilbert,” the voice replied.

Matthew’s mouth stretched into a straight line. That should have been a comforting thought but it just made him feel like he was going to be horribly murdered even more. Well, too late to turn back. Just try to remain calm. What kind of answers did he really expect anyway?

“Would you like to listen to any music during your ride, Matthew Williams,” the voice asked.

Matthew had two options here: he could play something cheerful to distract him from how scared he was or he could play something really dramatic to help set the scene. He chose the former.

“You have the Mamma Mia soundtrack?”

The tablet went dark and the car speakers began to play from the aforementioned soundtrack. Matthew bobbed his head along to the songs, quietly humming to himself trying to shut out his anxious thoughts. He continued to look out the window, desperately searching for something to calm his pounding heart. He felt sick. He wished he told Alfred where he was going. There’ll be a missing person’s report by the end of the week. Why did he agree to this?

“We have arrived,” the tablet said, cutting into his thoughts.

“Oh.”

The car parked beside some, based on the overgrowth, abandoned train tracks. There wasn’t another building or human in sight.

“Are you sure this is the right place,” Matthew asked the tablet, not even trying to hide his terror anymore.

“Of course. Please leave the tablet inside the vehicle and follow the train tracks until you reach the river. Once there climb down using the hidden ladder and there you will meet The Doctor.”

“The Doctor? Who’s The Doctor?”

But the tablet had already powered down. Figures. Matthew set the tablet down and trembled as he stepped out of the car and onto the hard, near frozen, dirt. The car door closed behind him automatically before driving off again. Well, now Matthew had no choice but to follow the tracks.

He kept his arms held up to his chest, nervously singing to himself to try and not feel afraid. Aside from his own voice, not a sound could be heard in the dead of night. Why did these sort of things always have to happen at night in the middle of nowhere anyway? Why couldn’t they just meet up in a Waffle House on a sunny afternoon and discuss whatever need be discussed over something drowning in imitation syrup? This was all a trick and Matthew fell for it. He teared up but kept walking. Soon enough he heard the gentle current of the river the robot voice told him about. The train tracks formed a bridge over the water and Matthew looked through the brush for the ladder. Turned out he had to cross the river, on the tracks, to the other side to find it. It was sturdy enough but he refused to look down as he carefully and lightly made his way across. He sang his song much more loudly as he crossed. Don’t be afraid and don’t fall down.

Once safely, as safely as this whole ordeal could feel, on the other side Matthew found the ladder and began to climb down. The ladder smelled rusty and squeaked loudly under his weight. With each step he prayed very vocally for it not to break while he was still on it. Quickly enough, Matthew touched the ground again. Now it was semi-slick from exposure to flowing water. Arms once again up against his chest and shoulders tense, he looked around for anyone resembling “The Doctor.” Matthew called out for someone but no one revealed themselves. He tried one more time.

“Hello? I’m Matthew Williams?”

He heard a beeping and a door opened from underneath some tree roots. Matthew peered through them, moving them easily out of his way to enter.

“Hello?”

“Welcome,” the robot voice returned and a hallway illuminating beyond the doorway, “Matthew Williams.”

Matthew’s shoulders dropped in surprise, that was not what he was expecting, “Hello again, robot voice. Do I go down this hallway now?”

“That is correct.”

Matthew entered, the door closing behind him. At that point he was feeling completely exhausted but he continued down the corridor. At least it wasn’t dark anymore. There were several doors without knobs or anything along the hallway walls. Matthew assumed they opened automatically and since they weren’t opening to him they were not doors meant for him to enter. Where was this “doctor” character? Did he chicken out? Maybe this robot voice was alive on its own somehow. Then what did a sentient robot voice want with Matthew and Gilbert? Toward the end of the passageway, finally, a door opened. 

The room was completely dark apart from the light of the hall where Matthew stood. Only when he entered the room and the door closed behind him did the lights turn on. Every thought in Matthew’s head vanished the moment his eyes adjusted back to the light and settled on the only object in the room. There, on what seemed to be an operating table, was Gilbert sleeping. Matthew ran to his side and watched his chest move rhythmically. He was paler than before but he was alive. Matthew’s knees gave out from under him and he collapsed, weakly reaching up to hold Gilbert’s incredibly cold hand. Upon touching it Matthew noticed Gilbert had on a similar ring to his own. What was all this? Matthew used the table to support himself as he tried to stand up again. He looked at Gilbert’s sleeping face and wept uncontrollably.

“Gilbert?”

Their rings glinted and Gilbert’s eyes opened.


	4. The Things Remaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this fic it was the only thing I had floating around in my head. Now I can't really focus on it because I'm writing for Mob Psycho 100... I do want to finish this fic at some point if only for myself. Hopefully that day can come.

“Gilbert?”

Matthew whispered the name of his beloved, trying his hardest to control the hot tears leaving trails down his face. When the name left his lips a light blinked from their matching rings. Before Matthew could even instinctively look toward the light Gilbert’s eyes opened. It was so immediate Matthew wasn’t even sure he really saw them open. Standing over Gilbert, frozen, he watched as Gilbert’s red irises seemed to scan the room before finally scanning him.

After a moment, Gilbert sat upright. He did it in one motion, effortless but controlled. Gilbert’s face betrayed no emotion. Had his eyes not been open, Matthew might have thought he was still sleeping. Without thinking about it Matthew pinched his own cheek and flinched. If he was definitely awake, then so was Gilbert. One piece at a time, everything came to Matthew. They were in some creepy underground lab in the middle of the night far away from what felt like anyone else in the universe. But they were together. And Gilbert was awake and looking at him from on top of an operating table. And without giving it anymore thought Matthew lunged for Gilbert, wrapping his arms as tightly as possible around the man as he could, and screamed.

“Gilbert!”

Matthew had entertained in his mind the things he could say to Gilbert if he saw him again. He knew he would cry but he imagined he’d articulate something a little more dramatic or romantic than “Gilbert.” He thought he’d cry out “I love you” or the classic “I thought I’d never see you again” or something. He thought he’d rattle off a monologue of the life they would live together from then on and how he felt they would never be parted again. None of those thoughts were even remotely in his head now. Even so, crying out the name was enough in that moment. For Matthew then, no word could ever be so dramatic and romantic as the name of the person he cared for more than anyone else in the world.

“So you’re my new partner,” Gilbert said into Matthew’s shoulder.

Matthew’s grip loosened. Even though he backed away to look at Gilbert his hands still remained on the man. Matthew looked at Gilbert quizzically, unsure what he meant by that.

“Gilbert?” It seemed the be the only thing he knew how to say.

Gilbert’s eyebrows raised slightly, grin forming, “I’m Gilbert.”’

Matthew coughed, choking out a laugh through his horribly crying, “Are you trying to crack a joke?”

But Gilbert’s face didn’t change. He just… looked at Matthew. He looked kind of like a kid looking at a TV, like he wasn’t completely paying attention.

“Gilbert, you know who I am. Don’t you?”

“You’re my new partner,” he said, tilting his head a little bit like he was experimenting with his own movements.

Only then did Matthew let go of Gilbert. His brows furrowed together as he took a step back to try and understand what was happening. Gilbert continued to look at him all wide eyed, like nothing was wrong. Maybe his memory was a little fuzzy? He was dead after all. But what did he mean by “new partner?” He was his old partner, if anything. This time when Matthew looked into Gilbert’s eyes he realized that those weren’t Gilbert’s eyes at all. They lacked the warmth and pride of the real Gilbert. But this was the real Gilbert, wasn’t he? There was no mistaking it. What the hell was going on?

Matthew suddenly clutched his chest and gagged, dropping to his knees dramatically, “G-Gilbert! The zombie virus! It’s turning me!”

Gilbert only followed Matthew’s movements with his eyes, his facial expression unchanging and uncaring. Matthew sank all the way to the floor, playing out their little game to the bitter end. He shut his eyes and breathed his very last breath as a human until… the zombie game was over and it was confirmed for Matthew that this was either not Gilbert or not entirely Gilbert. So then…

“Who are you, exactly?” Matthew asked, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes before turning serious.

Gilbert’s raised eyebrows and mouth returned to their original position and he responded very plainly, “I’m Gilbert. You said so yourself.”

Matthew realized that the clean movements of Gilbert’s face and body up until this point were wholly unnatural. A normal person, much less Gilbert, wouldn’t move like that.

“Computer voice thingy,” Matthew unintentionally squeaked, looking around at the blank walls and ceiling, “tell me what’s happening.”

The walls, floor, and ceiling started blinking wildly, before the pixels started connecting, revealing… a mochi? It was soft looking, white with sleepy eyes and a cat’s mouth. Protruding from what could be assumed to be the “head” of the mochi was a swirling line. Was it an antenna? Maybe a tail? If it was coming out of the mochi’s head could it be considered hair? Matthew tried not to focus too much on the design choices or why a mochi appeared to begin with. The mochi with a face on the screen walls began a bouncing animation and spoke with that far too familiar robot voice.

“Hello Matthew Williams, we are delighted you have called on us.”

It was adorable to say the least, but it was also completely jarring. Matthew almost would have preferred a big metal man or a blinking red light fixture or anything a little more menacing. So far, every time Matthew felt he knew how to feel about a situation the theoretical rug was pulled from under his feet. He didn’t know if he should focus on the maybe Gilbert or the freaking cartoon character.

“So, is he really Gilbert?” Matthew asked the mochi.

It bounced and smiled, “Of course. This is the recovered and altered body of Gilbert Beilschmidt.”

“Altered?” What did that mean?

“Gilbert Beilschmidt is the last of what was once referred to as Project Reset. Project Reset was first established seven years ago under The Doctor. Unfortunately due to Project Reset’s failure to produce positive results, its sponsors pulled out leaving behind only what you see here in this laboratory.”

“What do you mean positive results? What is Project Reset?”

“Project Reset was to change the course of human history and medicine. Thanks to advances in neuroscience, robotics, as well as nerve conduction studies, Project Reset was able develop the first highly functional cyborg.”

“A cyborg? You mean like a robot?”

“That is an inaccurate term.”

“So Project Reset made successful cyborgs out of dead people?”

“That is incorrect.”

“But you said-”

“Project Reset was able to develop the first highly functional cyborg. This does not mean the project was successful.”

The whole experience was going quickly from unsettling to disturbing, putting it mildly. And hearing it all from a dancing mochi didn’t help Matthew’s discomfort. He looked back to Gilbert again, who only sat there. This did not seem to be the first time he was hearing all of this. Instead Gilbert was only looking at Matthew, studying his reactions to the information he was being presented closely. Timidly, Matthew turned back to the mochi.

“So what happened?”

The mochi bounced, blushing happily, “We are delighted by your interest.”

That’s a weird way to put it…

“Five patients guaranteed to die donated their bodies to the project. They were operated on, parts of their bodies being removed altogether should it have been deemed necessary. However, complications arose due to the nature of how some of them died.”

“Like what?”

“That’s classified,” the mochi said immediately, still bouncing.

Matthew’s mouth pursed in frustration and mild confusion on top of whatever mishmosh of emotion he was feeling. This was a lot of information to take in so suddenly. He chanced a glance back at Gilbert, who quickly looked away and to his feet. Was he trying to learn how to act around Matthew by watching him? Maybe he was sensing how Matthew was feeling. The nature of the death influenced what happened to the patients when they woke up… or something like that. Without any specifics Matthew could only make assumptions but, Gilbert slipped on some ice and hit his head. Was that why he wasn’t completely there? But even that felt wrong to Matthew, it felt too easy.

“Okay then. Another question.”

“Of course,” the mochi started its little dance again.

“No one knew Gilbert was going to die, which means he never agreed to be made into a cyborg. So why did you pick him to turn into one?”

“That is because The Doctor wished it.”

“Why did The Doctor wish it?”

“That’s classified.”

Another dead end, so he tried again.

“Who is The Doctor?”  
“That’s classified.”

Seriously?

“Will you tell me anything else?”

“It is currently Thirty-Four Degrees Celsius outside.”

Gilbert put his hand over his mouth, covering up a little cackle. So this thing had a sense of humor and so did Gilbert, it seemed. At least his laugh was still the same. Matthew wasn’t amused but he was getting tired and felt like giving up the whole affair. Who knows? Maybe he’d wake up in a moment and find out this was all a dream. He pinched his face again.

“We assure you, this is not a dream,” the mochi said.

So it understood human gestures too. Matthew felt he should do his best to pay attention to as much as possible. Even the smallest detail could help him. The robot voice wasn’t going to tell him anything it felt he didn’t need to know, but it did speak very carefully. It seemed it would never lie to him, but it would gladly leave out parts of the truth to misguide him. It was the most sophisticated and detailed AI Matthew had ever heard of. There was also the possibility that they were all being observed, and the robot voice was The Doctor speaking to them under the guise of an AI. Matthew had a million questions to ask but how many would get answers? How much of Gilbert was changed into a cyborg? Why do they have matching light up rings? Why can’t he know who The Doctor is and about the finer details of Project Reset? Now that he thought about it, why was he brought here? Why was he privy to all of this in the first place? That one felt fair enough to deem a real response.

“That is because Gilbert Beilschmidt is incomplete and will need someone more mobile to monitor him. You will not betray Gilbert Beilschmidt, Matthew Williams.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you came here tonight, knowing nothing except that Gilbert Beilschmidt would be here.”

The implications of that scared Matthew. It all scared Matthew, but something about the way that robot voice put it really rubbed him the wrong way. And they needed him to be a “mobile monitor” type for Gilbert. That meant they couldn’t watch them at all times but it also meant if they tried to run they’d be limited in following them. Matthew took in a deep and careful breath, calming at the thought of a plausible out.

“Yeah, you got me there. Just to be sure, Gilbert doesn’t recognize me?”

“That is correct,” the mochi smiled, it was really starting to gross Matthew out.

“Can he come home?”

“That is allowed.”

“Okay then, Gilbert, let’s go home,” Matthew said taking Gilbert’s robot hand, trying to speed up the process of getting the heck out of there.

“Onto the matter of business,” the mochi interjected, stopping them in their tracks, “in exchange for bringing Gilbert Beilschmidt back to you you will be required to assist in the recollection of Resets.”

“Wait, what?” Matthew asked, feeling as if he had had the wind kicked out of him suddenly. So much for a clean getaway...

“Due to a lack of finances the proverbial lights cannot stay on forever. During a recent blackout four of the five original Resets escaped. Using Gilbert Beilschmidt’s modified body you will return them to this laboratory for dismantling. And then Project Reset will finally be completed.”

“You said four out of five… are these Resets the patients?”

“That is a correct assumption.”

“You want me to help you kill those people?”

“That is incorrect. They are no longer people, but cyborgs. And they were dead before they became that way.”

“No, I can’t. I can’t do that…” He felt sick.  
But this time Gilbert replied instead of the mochi. With Matthew’s hand still holding his, he raised their hands up. His face had finally changed, turning serious. It made Matthew’s knees buckle.

“In making your appearance tonight wearing this ring, you’ve already agreed to what would be asked of you.”

Now Matthew felt helpless, “no, Gilbert. I don’t wanna hear that from you. You were supposed to be on my side, remember?”

Clearly he didn’t. But the mochi started speaking again, “you may always pull out, should you so desire. However, Gilbert will power down the moment you do. That is what the rings monitor.”

So they could be watched to some extent, even if they ran away. Gilbert doesn’t remember him or their life together. Matthew wasn’t even sure if Gilbert remembered ever being alive. So even if Matthew found a way to keep Gilbert from being shut down he probably wouldn’t disobey the mochi. And it was Matthew’s own fault for agreeing to anything without thinking about it. So now he was going to assist in killing people… Then again, like the mochi said, they weren’t exactly people anymore. And who would miss them if they were already dead? Who else,outside of the lab, knew about the Resets and Project Reset? Did Matthew really have to think about any of this? He came all this way and they said he had a choice but… did he really?

“Okay… I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. We look forward to working with you, Matthew Williams.”

“You said I could bring Gilbert home. What do I tell Alfred? He’s still there.”

“We have been observing Alfred Jones and have deemed he will not betray your desires and, by extension, the mission. You may disclose as little as possible to him. You may also inform him that should he try to challenge the laboratory with such actions as alerting authorities or attempting to destroy Gilbert he will be terminated immediately.”

“How can you say that!?”

Now Alfred was going to be dragged into this? How was he going to make Alfred understand that they don’t have a choice and it’s probably fine anyway. Those patients agreed to this. They’re not even people anymore. But even so, Alfred did always have a hero complex. Still, Matthew didn’t think there was really a way to keep the finer details from Alfred. And sending him home wouldn’t keep him from creeping back into Matthew’s life, not after the last few days of them being together. What should he do?

“While he may be vital to you, Matthew Williams, he is not necessary to the success of the mission,” the mochi bounced happily, pushing Matthew to a decision.

“Is there anything else horrible I need to know right now?”

“No, there is not. Not immediately.”

“Fine, can we go now?”

“Yes. Should you leave the way you came you will find the automated car has returned to the train tracks and is waiting for you.”

“Okay, come on Gilbert,” Matthew said turning away with Gilbert in tow.

Matthew wanted to feel scared again but the moment the two stepped outside Gilbert gasped and froze in place. Was it a bear? Matthew turned around to see what was halting Gilbert but there was nothing immediately striking. Matthew followed Gilbert’s glittering eyes upward to the sky and then Matthew noticed it. They were far enough away from the city that the sky was completely clear and full of stars. And it hit Matthew that in Gilbert’s current state this was something he had never experienced before. Come to think of it, Matthew had never seen anything like this either.

Even though Gilbert was a cyborg now his hand was still warm holding his. Looking up at the stars together by a river in the woods far away from the rest of the world, Matthew felt they could have been this way in another life. Maybe they still had a chance to. So he tightened his grip on Gilbert’s hand and closed his eyes to make a wish.

“They told me about you, a little,” Gilbert said.

It was strange to hear Gilbert talk for some reason. Maybe it was just that nothing felt real anymore. Even so, Gilbert tighten his grip on Matthew’s hand as well. It was startling.

“I’ll do my best to act like the Gilbert you remember.”

Matthew nodded his head left and right a few times, hurriedly. That seemed so unfair to this person. Inside the lab he might have been grateful for it but now they were outside, in the real world again. And asking this Gilbert to be someone he didn’t know anything about seemed cruel when he seemed to already be forming his own personality.

“It sucks you don’t remember, I wish you did,” Matthew started, “but I think for now you should just be you, if you can. It… may not feel like it but you’re safe with me. So you don’t have to try to be Gilbert or… I don’t know.”

Gilbert didn’t say anything to that. Matthew had no way of knowing how long this new person was in the world but being forced to be someone you aren’t sucks. No way would Matthew make the mistake of asking him to do it. It was so horribly painful though. Gilbert was here and yet he wasn’t. It weighed down on him. If he wasn’t so tired it probably would have made him cry. Was he always such a crybaby?

“Hey,” Matthew said trying to cheer up, “since you don’t have to be Gilbert why don’t we give you a new name.”

“Like what,” he seemed kind of happy about it, the pressure was off.

“How about Gil?”

That was so lame. But then Gil cackled that old familiar cackle that Matthew remembered so dearly. Maybe it was possible his memories would come back? For now, these little traces of the man he loved would be enough.

“Okay then, call me Gil!”

“Okay, Gil. Let’s go home.”


	5. The Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on another fic right now and I just started thinking about this one again. An asteroid hit my house so hopefully I can keep writing.

The sun was already rising into a periwinkle tinted sky when Matthew and his cybernetic other made it to their shared apartment front door. It was red, the only red one in the entire complex. They painted it that color the night they were drunk on having consummated their love. And the following morning their landlord was very angry with them and demanded they paint over it again. The pair agreed but never went through with it. The landlord never returned to ask them to change it, probably having decided to keep their deposit in exchange for the momentary lapse in judgement they called “artistic expression.” 

Matthew was out of practice when it came to sneaking back into houses, having not performed said ritual in over four years. However, he hadn’t lost his touch. Every motion of entering the apartment was slow, deliberate, and as silent as possible from turning the key in its lock to twisting the knob to shutting the door again. Matthew entered first, scoping out the area. He knew the likelihood of Alfred being awake at this hour, especially after all his drinking the night prior, was incredibly low but the more timid twin would do anything to avoid immediate confrontation. He knew he’d have to ease Alfred into the whole mess eventually but he really didn’t know how to go about it yet. Besides, he hadn’t slept at all since yesterday. More than anything now he wanted to collapse into bed with Gilbert and go to sleep. Then Matthew’s violet eyes turned back to Gil, still waiting outside watching Matthew as he peered around.

Would crawling into Gilbert’s bed with Gil be considered cheating? It’s weird to think about but while they shared a body they did not share a mind and probably not a theoretical heart either. How did this Gilbert, Gil, feel about Matthew? Did he feel anything at all? He was certainly polite to Matthew, even went so far as to say things like he’d try to become the Gilbert Matthew remembered and loved… well remembered at least. Did he know anything about how their relationship used to be? Could it be like that again if Matthew gave Gilbert some hints or flat out told him what to do? No, Matthew turned down the idea, having already told Gil to just try and be himself for now. Did he even have a self to be? Gil resembled Gilbert at times with a certain familiar twinkle in his eyes and that cackle laugh but this Gilbert’s sense of irony and humor were much more subtle than the original’s. At least, that’s what Matthew had gathered during their brief conversations. On the car ride back home the two of them hardly spoke at all but the same Mamma Mia soundtrack was still playing. And, while he tried to hide it, Matthew could tell Gil really was liking what he was hearing though he did not know what it was. That was a person experiencing the world for the first time while trying to be someone who had already been in this world forever. And Matthew wondered, what would he think of the apartment? Would something come back to him if he had a look around?

“It looks safe to go in,” Matthew whispered not especially carefully, “follow me.”

“Okay,” Gil whispered back, imitating some kind of foot soldier. Was he in the mood to play a game?

Pushing open the door Matthew slipped in before Gil could really see the inside. He turned around quickly to observe Gil, wondering what he’d notice first, wondering if anything would come back to him. But to Matthew’s lack of surprise Gilbert didn’t seem to be struck by anything in particular, eyes darting immediately to a pile of clothes on the ground and some beer cans from the night before then toward the bathroom where the scent of vomit Matthew had forgotten to flush wafted into the living room and kitchen. Maybe Matthew should have tried harder to prepare for Gil’s arrival? He felt embarrassed, lowering his head enough to let his wavy unwashed hair fall over his face. He had no idea how much of himself he had let go in the days Gilbert was gone. Alfred was right, Matthew was a horrible mess. He was only able to see how gross this place was now that it felt like the worst was over… except it wasn’t. There was also the matter of them hunting down rogue robots who were also zombies. What kind of grotesque video game world were they living in where any of this was a possibility?

“Oh,” Gil mumbled to himself, crossing deliberately across the room and picking up a little carving to admire.

Matthew’s heart raced. That was the one Gilbert had carved to resemble Matthew. He spent the entire day whittling away at that little piece of lumber, using tweezers to remove his occasional splinters and bandaids to quickly cover up cuts on his fingers from the knife slipping loose in his grip. It was the hardest Gilbert had ever worked on a piece and it looked nothing like Matthew. Where Matthew was slender, baby faced, and wide eyed, this wood carving was amorphous. It didn’t have eyes or any other distinguishable human features,l if Matthew was speaking plainly. He couldn’t quite call it an alien either. He didn’t know what to call it other than a monstrosity. But the beaming toothy smile Gilbert wore when he finally showed Matthew his masterpiece made the lie slip out so naturally Matthew hadn’t realized he told one. I love it. You’ve made me so beautiful. Seeing that creepy statue in Gil’s hand now made Matthew think maybe it wasn’t a lie, not anymore. He resisted the urge to cry, far too emotional for his own good lately. He needed to keep it together, at least until after a long and well deserved sleep.

“Do you like it,” Matthew whispered, coming around the cheesy chip crumb dusted couch to look at the mini Matthew over Gil’s broad shoulder.

Gil squinted at it, face visibly tensing, before quietly responding, “what’s it supposed to be?”

Too emotional or otherwise, in one swift motion Matthew stepped back, took off his glasses, and mutely cried his heart out into his red hoodie’s sleeve. In the two seconds it took Gil to turn around to look back at Matthew he was already back to normal, eyes only a little puffy. He was still capable of these subtle arts as well, it seemed.

“You okay?”

“A little tired,” Matthew lied. “A lottle tired,” Matthew truthed.

Gil’s expression changed then, it softened when Matthew spoke. It wasn’t the softness one would see if Gil had been looking at the man he was in love with but it thankfully wasn’t the softness of pity either. There was no way to really determine what kind of look it was other than simply soft. His crimson eyes lowered back to the lacquered carving in his palm before returning it to its original position by the grey window. He gave the room one last look around. Muddy blue colored walls, a well worn in moss green fabric couch littered with clothing and tissues. At its feet were lumpy and flattened patterned pillows that were meant to be decorative but were often stepped on. And beside them was a glass top coffee table stained with misty rings of coffee and soda and tea never wiped once. There was a shelving unit of books and DVDs and video games, all second handed. Beside it was a makeshift looking pillow fort inside of a spray painted black crate fashioned to resemble a reading nook but instead resembled more of a small cave with an impenetrable mouth stuffed with 100% cotton towels and spare bedding. Under their feet was a faded black carpet with specks of different colors dots and crumbs in it. But most importantly were all the little pictures crookedly clinging to the walls with scotch tape. They were pictures of Gilbert and Matthew and what would be assumed to be their other friends. They were pictures of cute dogs and delicious food; of sunsets and sunrises, all taken with disposable cameras. If the subjects didn’t look like they were having some of the best times of their lives, they would have come across as pretentious. This was the life of Gilbert Beilschmidt, this was the life Gil had forgotten.

His gaze travelled back to Matthew who was looking at him dejectedly. There was something missing between the two of them. Even with Gil’s memories wiped he was aware of it. He could see Matthew was doing everything he could to keep from betraying too much about how he was feeling; both to keep himself guarded and surely to protect Gil. But it was too late. With only a glance he could see any number of things stirring inside Matthew’s heart. It was something he had been able to do from the moment he woke up to the smaller man’s weepy face. Maybe it was something Gilbert had left behind for him, a sort of clue to their shared past. That wasn’t something he needed to continue to think about though, not when he himself was growing so tired.

“Where’s the bedroom?”

Something about this question made Matthew tense up. No, it wasn’t something. He knew exactly what it was. Would Gilbert forgive him if he shared a bed with his lover’s handsome doppelganger? Matthew bit his lip instinctively. He had no intention of crawling into bed with Alfred instead. What if he puked in his sleep? Yes, Gilbert would understand. If their roles were reversed Gilbert would probably do the same. He would also have a similar panic attack, actually. Then Matthew bit his lip harder to keep from smiling too obviously. If Gilbert were in his shoes he’d take a clueless Matthew by the hand and guide him to the bedroom, going about it as dramatically as possible as if there were an invisible audience yucking up at the odd couple. Maybe he’d even dance around a bit. Gil seemed to notice Matthew’s mood swing in a more lighthearted direction. This helped Gil lighten up as well. In response Matthew forgot himself, taking Gil by the hand. Just let go, have some fun, relax, stop dying inside all the time and do something. Blushing madly, he cooed at the familiar stranger.

“Right this way.” Maybe he was also in the mood for games.

Matthew’s fingers were pale and clammy on Gil’s much warmer but equally pale ones. They wrapped around his and tightened, taking a moment to settle in a place that was all too familiar. Instinctively Gil’s digits copied the motions of Matthew’s. Their hands were not completely together, fingers not remotely intertwined. They were not holding hands but delicately the tips of each other’s fingers. And it was nice. A little stressful. But nice.

Matthew faced away from Gil toward Gilbert’s scratched and stained bedroom door. His mouth tightened, face tensing but remaining theatrical. Gilbert’s eyebrows pulled faintly together, his breaths slowing down and deepening. Every motion being made felt as careful and quiet as when they entered the apartment together earlier. It hadn’t been so many minutes since then but time was moving at a glacial pace, turning individual moments into fuzzy sepia toned decades. Unconsciously all Gil’s attention went to the coolness of Matthew’s touch. Was this part of Gilbert’s life too, he wondered as he was lead.

The door to the bedroom opened but Gil didn’t pay any mind to anything in the room. His eyes were trained on Matthew’s free hand lightly gripping the smudgy doorknob, gliding away once the door was shut again behind them. Matthew’s eyes never met Gil’s while their hands were together. They were trained on anything but the figure of his former lover. And finally when their fingers let go Matthew moved toward one side of the bed leaving Gil at the desk by the door. Gil’s thoughts were foggy but he remained cool and composed in spite of the unfamiliar feeling growing in his abdomen.

“I’m going to sleep now…”

Gil remained still and stoic, his chest rising and falling slowly with each natural breath. The visual made Matthew’s shoulders relax. Gil was definitely alive. Why does he feel like he’s still teetering on a tightrope between a dream and reality?

“You can,” Matthew started, “also sleep?”

And then the two of them were in bed together, backs ghosting eachother’s, warmth radiating from their proximities under the covers. Matthew’s glasses were set on the little windowsill by his side of the bed. His body was quickly slowing down but his thoughts were racing and incoherent. He was in bed with Gilbert again. Gilbert was alive. He still smelled the same. Matthew would get to see him in his favorite shirt again. How did they ever share this bed before? They were closer before. Does Gilbert’s new body eat food? What did either of them do to deserve this? How could they have been so lucky to have been given a second chance? The thought both relieved Matthew and terrified him. Were they going to be like they used to be ever again?

“Gil?”

“Yes?”

An immediate answer.

“You can say no but,” how could he say this, “You don’t have to be Gilbert but… just this one time maybe…”

Gil remained silent as Matthew mentally groped around in the dark for the embarrassing and lonely words he needed.

“Would you hold me until I fall asleep?”

At first Gil said nothing, a distinct contrast to his former “yes.” There was no response, nothing. Matthew closed his eyes as tightly as humanly possible, wishing with every fiber in his body he didn’t ask for such a stupid and creepy and sad thing. He curled himself up tightly and dug his palms into his hot eye sockets to try and stop the tears from spilling over for the thousandth time that night. On top of being an absolute loser he was a crybaby, in over his head and a mistake since birth. Why was someone so pathetic ever born? He was such an ugly and miserable joke. He wished he could just disappear and feel nothing but the cold void threatening to swallow him up; its shadowy hands reaching up from his own consciousness to tug at his clothes and pull him as low as he would let them.

But that cold isolated clawing feeling was suddenly replaced with tender heat. Gil’s body moved behind him before one large arm draped over his torso while another dug under his waist into the mattress until both arms were completely wrapped around him. And then Matthew was pulled into Gil’s warm chest and he was able to feel Gil’s heartbeat in through their touching ribs. And that was what finally did it. The thought of Gilbert's heart beating again so close to his forced the final sobs of the evening to freely fall out into his hands. He didn’t dare turn to face Gil and Gil never prompted him to explain. Matthew didn’t know if Gil understood him or not. Even Gilbert had trouble following Matthew from time to time. All he did know was that the arms around Matthew were strong, tightening, and comforting. And they were the last thing he was aware of when he finally was able to sleep.


End file.
